We
by window124
Summary: A storm was coming. *one-shot*


We, unaccustomed to courage  
exiles from delight  
live coiled in shells of loneliness  
until love leaves its high holy temple  
and comes into our sight  
to liberate us into life.

-Maya Angelou

He was ticking. It was not a loud trumpet piercing every interaction or a sustained drumbeat of discontent in every syllable of plans made or even a gurgling hum bubbling in the spaces of his words, but President Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III was ticking and it was only a sound Cyrus Beene could hear.

It had been two months since an assassin had almost taken the President's life and the heat of the summer and the legislative agenda was in front of them. After a painful battle to gain his seat back, Fitz pushed himself like a man possessed, a man running out of time to make a difference.

Cyrus knew that Fitz missed her. He didn't have to say it. His glances out of windows and his sighs of frustration told the tale. And while Fitz had never been more focused on his job, more presidential, Cyrus knew from the increasing migraines and the lack of sleep that Fitz needed to see Olivia. That Fitz was going to explode and possibly injure himself if he kept pushing so hard in the face of his own mortality.

"Sir."

Fitz looked up from his desk and Cyrus winced at the sight of the missing puff of hair and scar that marked the right side of his head. It was still a shock to see the evidence of Fitz's ordeal and usually Fitz was self-conscious about the mark, attempting to comb over it as much as possible and to make himself seem the man he once was, but today Cyrus could see he was beyond caring.

"We need to go to Camp David."

"What?" Fitz face twisted in confusion. "We have a major bill coming up in the House. I have to do a full court press…"

"You need a break, sir."

"The hell, Cy?" Fitz put his folders down and leaned back in his seat.

"We aren't going to be making any moves on this until Monday, Mr. President. Congress is being obstinate and are about to go on vacation anyway."

"Which means we need to set the narrative now, Cy. Tell the American people…"

"You're ticking, sir."

Fitz tilted his head slightly and then straightened it in knowing. "I'm fine."

"Sir…"

"She made her decision, Cy. And it wasn't me."

Cyrus rolled his eyes. "Enough of this teenage bullshit! I can go watch Dawson's Creek with James if I needed this shit in my life."

"What do you want me to do? I'm doing my job and while Olivia did a wonderful job when I was down and out it doesn't change the facts. I have a new baby. I have a new life. I don't have time..."

"Nothing has changed, Mr. President. You are ticking. You need a rest if I have to drag you there my damn self."

* * *

She was pacing in circles again. That was never a good sign. The associates at OPA had taken up from across her office door and were anxious what the pacing meant for them this time. What it signaled.

Huck shrugged his shoulders with the inquiries but he knew it was about the President. When wasn't it about the President. He didn't interfere with her life. He knew that she was attracted to the President the moment they were first in a room together. Huck's life as a spy trained him for it and he knew, now, that she was silently yearning for the man. Had been yearning for Fitzgerald Grant since he had recovered from the attempt on his life.

His cellphone buzzed in his pocket and he quickly picked it up, looking at the number.

Cyrus Beene. Speak of the devil. He put the cell to his ear cautiously.

"I have a proposition." Cyrus began without introduction. Huck was weary but listened.

* * *

He was going to kill Cyrus. Fitz should have known better than to trust the man to not do something like this. To not put her within arm's reach. But here she was, in Witch Hazel Lodge, looking as beautiful as ever in a peach short sleeve blouse with white slacks. She showed just enough skin to make him feel touchy and his fingers flexed in response.

False pretenses were all this was. Cyrus had promised. Made a vow on his mother's grave. The snake. And there Cyrus stood, smug in his trickery, and Olivia looked uncomfortable on the small cabin couch, as if she was just as shocked as he was.

He noted a presence in the shadows of the cabin and knew it was Huck. The man was adept at making his presence as ubiquitous as possible while not being seen at all.

"Cy…" Fitz started but Cyrus put his hand up to stop him.

"You two have been a pain in my ass for the past year. Both of you. If I'm not trying to clean up your crap over her then I'm trying to get her to stop destroying you. I thought this would get better after you got shot. I thought, 'Hey maybe these two will finally get it together' and you two, true to fashion, didn't."

"Cy…" Olivia started, her temper rising.

"Shut up! I can't deal with this Jacobean tragedy shit another moment. Another second. So here is what we are going to do. I am going back to D.C. and get ready for the coming push and distract Mellie. My friend here, Huck, will stay here to make sure you stay in this fucking cabin until you get whatever you got going right now out of your system. You understand?"

Both parties stayed silent and Cyrus nodded his head.

"Have a good stay."

* * *

They stayed silent for at least an hour, both mad about the situation they had been placed in but, at the same time, content that the other was there. Huck had left a short while ago to both survey the area and to give them privacy, giving Fitz a withering look as he left. They had been left alone in the cabin. Alone with their own thoughts and contemplation.

Olivia made the first move for conversation.

"How is the baby?"

Fitz gave her a hard look. "He's fine. Mellie is adjusting well."

The silence came over the room like a cold front before a winter storm. Fitz crossed his arms and Olivia crossed her own.

"I don't know how long you are going to be angry at me. I don't deserve it." Olivia blurted out.

"You made a choice." Fitz answered back. "You chose Edison."

"I didn't choose Edison. I chose myself." Olivia shot back. "I'm not even with Edison anymore."

This was something that made Fitz uncross his arms. "You're not?"

"No." Olivia's brown eyes softened. "I haven't been with him since you were…"

"Shot." He completed and felt like a heel. He ran his fingers through his curls and felt his heart pounding against his ribs. She had been with him in the hospital. She had helped him in the fight to gain his presidency back but he had been harboring this anger at her. This irrational anger that she loved another man. That he was alone and in love with her while she was happy with someone else.

"Liv, I didn't know…"

Olivia shook her head and stood from the couch across from him. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold, despite the fact that it was the first week of August. He rose himself and walked to her, standing behind her, his hands on her hips.

"I'm sorry. Baby, I'm…"

"Don't. Fitz, please don't." He felt her shiver under his touch.

"I'm sorry I was so angry. I know I have no right to be. I know that I'm a married man and it hurt you that you felt you couldn't have all of me. I know…"

"Dammit! Stop Fitz." Her shivers became shakes and Fitz suddenly realized she was crying. He gently turned her to face him and felt his heart breaking at the sight of her falling apart.

"Livvie."

"Don't! You don't get to do this! You don't…" Olivia attempted to push him away but he wouldn't budge. "You don't get to come back into my life like this! You don't get to almost die on my and then not talk to me for two months! You don't…"

"Livvie, look at me." He gently commanded. He put his forehead on hers as she wouldn't look at him. Fitz nuzzled his nose against her, cajoling her to meet his eyes. Things were always better when she looked at him. When she saw him.

"I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you."

"Do you know what it is like to have to plan for your burial? Go over your favorite hymns? Do you know what that is like having to imagine you in your casket? I can't…I won't…"

"Livvie. I love you." Tears stung his eyes at her pain. "Stop. Stop torturing yourself."

"I was there when you woke up. I was so hopeful and you just…I can't Fitz. I can't keep doing this and keep my sanity."

The kiss came like a flash of lightening and both felt the thunder rumble through them. The tips of her fingers teased his scalp and his hands found her ass and gripped her buttocks tightly. If it were possible to fuse together they would have found a way. They stumbled towards the couch, her underneath him, the sharpness of their kisses and moans echoing throughout the cabin.

* * *

There was a storm brewing outside but there was a storm inside of them ready to unleash as well. Rain pelted the windows as she pelted him with kisses on his mouth, forehead, and chin. Olivia never felt so exposed to him. Never so raw. Their tears intermixed with their kisses and it tasted like a hard fought victory. Like a salty nectar of yearning. They had risen from the couch and pounded into the doors, walls, and picture frames of the cabin like their own personal tornado. Clothing was strewn all over the place as their impatience lead to a release of inhibitions. The rumble of thunder followed them as they had finally found the cabin bedroom and they stumbled onto the bed, her on top of him, her thighs bracing onto his hips.

Olivia took this time to examine him as she removed his white tee-shirt and paused at the scars she saw. A moment of fear passed in his eyes and she leaned down to kiss him gently, knowing that he was probably still weary of people seeing proof of his ordeal. She kissed down his neck, her tongue washing over his adam's apple, and then kissed the mark where a bullet had entered his shoulder. She kissed further down and gently kissed the scar on his stomach and heard him moan in both relief and passion. She moved back up and looked in his eyes, her fingers finding the scar on his hair line, and he quietly examined her as she looked at it.

This had been what worried her most. His head. It was what had almost taken him from her. Tears spilled down her face as she lowered her head to kiss the mark and she could feel Fitz fingernails dig into her skin at the hips. He had been worried about this. She could tell. She sat up again.

"I love you."

Fitz closed his eyes and the pain from the last few months overcame him. She wiped at his tears while her own fell. She had missed him. She had almost lost him. She wanted to make love to him.

* * *

She felt so soft and wet. He had fantasized about how she felt on the inside for years. Those memories had driven him insane more times than he could count. And now he was there again, pushing into her walls, wondering how he could have ever lived without her.

His dick was harder than it had ever been, pulsing and throbbing with want for her. Her nails scrapped his back and he watched in fascination as her breast bobbed with each thrust, each tease. Fitz had teased her before entering, his cock rubbing against her clit in a motion he knew drove her up the wall. Then he had plunged, lightening sparking the summer night, as he did so and the old cabin rocked with its closeness and force.

"I missed you." She gasped, her mouth open in wanton surrender at his entry. Her hair was askew, her make-up smeared from his kisses, and she had never looked so beautiful to him.

"I love you, Livvie." He breathed, his forehead touching hers.

* * *

Fitz pulled her hair back, and she surrendered, her throat open and exposed as he pumped into her from behind like a man possessed. He pinched her nipples with force and his teeth scraped the crook of her necks. The storm continued on and so did they. His lips touched her earlobes and then she heard his voice whisper.

"I belong to you. Do you belong to me?"

His hands went to her stomach and Olivia groaned, her eyes closed.

"It drove me crazy. Seeing you with him. Touching you." He paused his strokes and Olivia opened her eyes again, leaning back into his sweaty chest. "I…need to know."

He gave a strong stroke and Olivia cried out, not sure if she could take anymore pleasure from him.

"I need to hear it. Livvie, please."

"I belong to you." She gasped into the air.

"Say it again." He pumped harder. Faster.

"I belong to you, Fitz!"

"Say it again." She could feel his breathing become harsher. He was on the brink and he was going to take her with him.

"I belong to you! Only you! I love you, Fitz!"

His strokes became erratic and he squeezed her breasts and bit into her shoulder as she raised her arms to feel his hair with her fingers. They shook together in shared release and a sense of calm overcame them. Olivia collapsed, sweaty and drained, on the sheets. Fitz kneeled over her, dazed and breathless, his naked chest rising and falling rapidly, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. Olivia turned her body to face him and could see the weariness in his eyes. He looked at her as if this were a dream. As if he were going to wake up any moment and she wouldn't be here in front of him. Be in love with him.

She lifted her hand and took his and he gave her a heated stare.

"Sleep, Fitz. Sleep and we'll deal with it in the morning."

"I don't want just the morning." He confessed. He lowered himself beside her and wrapped his arms around her.

"Then we'll deal with it the rest of our lives." She looked into his blue gray eyes. She never wanted to be separated from him again. She would do anything in her power to make whatever they had work.

Fitz nodded his head and leaned his forehead against hers and she listened as his breathing slowed. Looked as his eyes shut. Felt as his fingers slackened on her body.

She noticed the storm had stopped.


End file.
